The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vi Part 38

JASON. Go!

MEDEA. And today?

JASON. Today!

MEDEA. And thou canst stand So calm before me and speak such a word, Nor drop thine eyes for shame, nor even blush?

JASON. I must needs blush, if I should say aught else!

MEDEA. Ha! Good! Well done! Speak ever words like these When thou wouldst clear thyself in others' eyes, But leave such idle feigning when thou speak'st With me!

JASON. Dost call my dread of horrid deeds Which thou hast done, a sham, and idle, too?

Thou art condemned by men; the very G.o.ds Have d.a.m.ned thee! And I give thee up to them And to their judgment! 'Tis a fate, in sooth, Thou richly hast deserved!

MEDEA. Who is this man, This pious, virtuous man with whom I speak?

Is it not Jason? Strives he to seem mild?

O, mild and gentle one, didst thou not come To Colchis' strand, and win in b.l.o.o.d.y fight The daughter of its king? O, gentle, mild, Didst thou not slay my brother, was it not At thine own hands mine aged father fell, Thou gentle, pious man? And now thou wouldst Desert the wife whom thou didst steal away!

Mild? No, say rather hateful, monstrous man!

JASON. Such wild abuse I will not stay to hear.

Thou knowest now what thou must do. Farewell!

MEDEA. Nay, nay, I know not! Stay until I learn!

Stay, and I will be quiet even as thou.-- So, I am banished, then? But what of thee?

Methinks the Herald's sentence named thee, too.

JASON. When it is known that I am innocent Of all these horrid deeds, and had no hand In murdering mine uncle, then the ban Will be removed from me.

MEDEA. And thou wilt live Peaceful and happy, for long years to come?

JASON. I shall live quietly, as doth become Unhappy men like me.

MEDEA. And what of me?

JASON. Thou dost but reap the harvest thine own hands Have sown.

MEDEA. My hands? Hadst thou no part therein?

JASON. Nay, none.

MEDEA. Didst never pray thine uncle's death Might speedily be compa.s.sed?

JASON. No command At least I gave.

MEDEA. Ne'er sought to learn if I Had heart and courage for the deed?

JASON. Thou know'st How, in the first mad burst of rage and hate, A man speaks many hot, impetuous threats Which calm reflection never would fulfil.

MEDEA. Once thou didst blame thyself for that mad deed; Now thou hast found a victim who can bear The guilt in place of thee!

JASON. 'Tis not the thought Of such a deed that merits punishment; It is the deed itself.

MEDEA (_quickly_).

I did it not!

JASON. Who, then, is guilty?

MEDEA. Not myself, at least!

Listen, my husband, and be thou the first To do me justice.

As I stood at the chamber door, to enter And steal away the Fleece, The king lay there on his couch; Sudden I heard a cry! I turned, And lo! I saw the aged king Leap from his couch with frightful shrieks, Twisting and writhing; and he cried, "Com'st thou, O brother, to take revenge, Revenge on me? Ha! Thou shalt die Again, and yet again!" And straight He sprang at me, to grip me fast, For in my hands I held the Fleece.

I shook with fear, and cried aloud For help to those dark G.o.ds I know; The Fleece before me like a s.h.i.+eld I held. His face was twisted swift To maniac grins, and leered at me!

Then, with a shriek, he madly tore At the clothes that bound his aged veins; They rent; the blood gushed forth in streams, And, even as I looked, aghast And full of horror, there he lay, The king, at my very feet, all bathed In his own blood-lay cold and dead!

JASON. And thou canst stand and tell me such a tale, Thou hateful witchwife? Get thee gone from me!

Away! I shudder at thee! Would that I Had ne'er beheld thy face!

MEDEA. Thou knewest well That I was skilled in witchcraft, from that day When first thou saw'st me at my magic arts, And still didst yearn and long to call me thine!

JASON. I was a youth then, and an arrant fool!

What boys are pleased with, men oft cast away.

MEDEA. O, say no word against the golden days Of youth, when heads are hot, but hearts are pure!

O, if thou wert but now what once thou wast, Then were I happier far! Come back with me Only a little step to that fair time When, in our fresh, green youth, we strayed together By Phasis' flowery marge. How frank and clear Thy heart was then, and mine how closely sealed And sad! But thou with thy soft, gentle light Didst pierce my darkness, drive away the clouds, And make me bright and happy. Thine I was, And thou wert mine; O, Jason, is it then Vanished forever, that far, happy time?

Or hath the bitter struggle for a hearth And home, for name and fame, forever killed The blooms of fairest promise on the tree Of thy green youth? Oh, compa.s.sed though I be With woe and heavy sorrows all about, Yet I think often on that springtime sweet Whence soft and balmy breezes o'er the years Are wafted to me! If Medea then Seemed fair to thee and lovely, how today Can she be dread and hateful? What I was Thou knewest, and didst seek me none the less.

Thou took'st me as I was; O, keep me, as I am!

JASON. Thou hast forgot the dreadful deeds that since Have come to pa.s.s.

MEDEA. Ay, dread they are, in sooth, And I confess it! 'Gainst mine aged sire I sinned most deeply, 'gainst my brother, too, And none condemns me more than I myself.

I'll welcome punishment, and I'll repent In joy and gladness; only thou shalt not p.r.o.nounce the doom upon me, nay, not thou!

For all my deeds were done for love of thee.-- Come, let us flee together, once again Made one in heart and soul! Some distant land Will take us to its bosom.

JASON. What land, then?

And whither should we flee?

MEDEA. Whither!

JASON. Thou'rt mad, And dost revile me, that I do not choose To share thy raving! No! Our life together Is done! The G.o.ds have cursed our union long, As one with deeds of cruelty begun, That since hath waged and found its nourishment In horrid crimes. E'en granting thou didst not Thyself slay Pelias, who was there to see?

Or who would trust thy tale?

MEDEA. Thou!

JASON. Even then, What can I do, how clear thee?--It were vain!

Come, let us yield to Fate, not stubbornly Defy it! Let us each repentance seek, And suffer our just doom, thou fleeing forth Because thou may'st not stay, I tarrying here When I would flee.

MEDEA. Methinks thou dost not choose The harder lot!

JASON. Is it so easy, then, To live, a stranger, in a stranger's house, Subsisting on a stranger's pitying gifts?